You know that feeling you get when you’ve just started to compose a new piece of music, and you can feel that it’s going to be great. You can feel that it’s a piece of your soul flowing through your fingertips and onto the keys. It forces its way into your heart and you know that you want to keep composing it through to its end. That warm, funny sensation in your stomach, sometimes mistaken for butterflies but it is not nerves which is bringing you to feel this way. It is not a way of saying you are scared.
This feeling….this feeling that I have…. I can’t explain it.
But when I open up the creaking lid of my piano and sit on the shiny black, cushioned stool…..
I crack my knuckles. My hands hover above the worn keys. I close my eyes and imagine. Something. Anything. I play notes, chords, chord progressions- anything that might fit the tune of my heart- and then I feel it! I feel that it is the right start to the song that I have never heard.
From there, five minutes is all it takes for me to figure out the rest of the beginning of this song that I have never heard. And then it happens.
My insides soar, taking me with them and I smile.
For that is the beginning of this song that I have never heard.